Let Us Know
by JJackson29
Summary: "Eru, you became everything that kept my world spinning... and I lost you."
1. Prologue

…

« _You have no idea of how many times I've been thinking lately about how much easier things could have been if we had kept our separated ways._

 _I never thought it would be like this with you. You were my first everything, and I was certain that was all I needed. But now we are lonely even when we lie next to each other. Thanks to your honesty, I realized of one thing: we're not the same as before. Now we fight over the other's problems instead of talking through them._

 _I'm going to see my dad. I will end my work here. I have already talked with your father about this; he'll soon find someone else, so do not worry._

 _Since I know you, I'm asking you not to fear, because I would never be able to hate you in the least. Not today, not in ten years._

 _I'm sorry you had to put up with everything until now. One day I'll come clean, but now it's not the right time._

 _Let's go somewhere if we meet then. Really, anywhere._

 _\- Houtarou. »_

…

Nomenclature:

Present =

 _._

 _-Day-_

 _._

Past =

…

 _-Month-_

…

A little disclaimer:

This is overly, pointlessly melodramatic and sickeningly cheesy.

I wrote it as a whim and just to put out there a little bit of a passionate love between these two, 'cause I really wanted them to have that.

The story jumps back and forth from a specific year in the past to a specific week in the present, but still in chronological order (kind of like in movies?)


	2. Let Us Know

「Let us Know」

.

 _\- Saturday -_

.

As he stands behind the yellow line with a suitcase on one hand, he remembers the vast simplicity of the city he's returning to. The scent of winter brings nostalgia along the wind.

.

…

.

In the warmth of her home, after sharing a heartwarming dinner with her family, she and Tadao are left alone in the dim room. Tadao grabs her hand carefully while she glances confused at his action.

"Eru-san… I have been wishing to ask you something utterly important for a while now. I will appreciate your sincerity as I speak."

It is because of her characteristic naivety that she cannot imagine what he is about to say. Though, Tadao rather speaks with the same security with which his eyes meet hers.

"It would be a pleasure to take care of you as my wife. Would you grand me that honor, Eru-san?"

As her eyes widen and her heart pounds, her mind goes blank for a moment. Yet he continues to speak, understanding her bewilderment.

"I don't require an immediate response. Feel free to take as much time as necessary. I'm letting you know that from this point forward, you do not mean any less to me than someone I wish to marry."

With delicacy, Tadao puts her hand down and stands up. After bowing and thanking for the food, he proceeds to leave, convincing her that he can see himself out.

.

…

.

The last train approaches as he tightens his scarf after one last deep breath.

Five years have gone by and what once felt like an eternity now seems meaningless. He knows this is something he has to face with the scarce courage he's earned after the many times he gave it up. However, it is not as easy as he would like it to.

.

…

.

She lies on her bed, unable to close her eyes for a bare second, for the pressure of an answer she does not yet have keeps her wide awake. And when she finally reaches a point in her weariness that pushes her into a dream, something unexpected relives in her sleep.

It's so sadly beautiful she could cry, as it is far from her reality now.

…

\- September, _defenseless._ –

…

The feeling of a sheepish graze on her back retrieves her from vain sleep. Curling up behind her waist, breathing slowly and deeply, she finds him there.

He had never seemed so small.

Looking so defenseless, it is impossible to repress the urge of nesting him inside her arms. She feels like tearing up and smiling at the same time when, at the slightest touch of her skin, he immediately gives into her embrace, not opening his eyes, finding shelter inside her chest.

" _I'm sorry."_

 _Shush…_ A lull sound cradles him in.

" _I'm sorry…"_

.

 _\- Sunday -_

.

When she gets out of bed, a little box rests at the doorsill. She opens it and the inside hides two things: a note and a ring.

 _« I did not know how to present it to you. »_

It hits hard inside her mind how unresponsive she's become. She takes a deep breath loaded with blame, and places the gift inside the pocket of her coat.

…

Though this new day started a few hours ago, it feels like time moves backwards. Little concentration and an overcompensating amount of blank staring is all she can invest while waiting at the table for her friend Kaho to come back.

This old place preserves the soothing aroma of coffee and the essence of quietude. Even if all the tables and the bar are at their fullest, she can find peace.

…

He stands at the bar, waiting for his black coffee to be brought fast so he can set free from the unusual crowd. Trying to understand that the tender is busy and he already chose this place anyway, he uses his precious patience.

" _Eru?"_

Among all voices speaking one over the other, his ear catches the one calling out such name.

It can't be. He doesn't recognize that voice. It can't be. There is no reason to come this far for a cup of coffee. It can't be. There's no point on looking up.

…

" _Shall we?"_

In a blink, her glance is back on Kaho. She nods and closes her agenda before lifting her purse off the table. They walk towards the door and she's aware that her mind has been drifting all day.

…

"Sir, your Americano."

His coffee is finally brought and he pays the exact amount to leave at once. He's not in a rush nor will he run in search of something he probably misheard. He knows his imagination is playing deviant games now that he is back. His current wish is to escape the loudness.

…

It would not be the first time a piece of a longing mind tries hard to become reality. Therefore, it can't be her.

…

The night hasn't come yet, in fact, she has many hours of pending work before she can leave the office. And still, she cannot seem to find the right point of focus.

She recalls Yoshioka Iwao, her grandfather's right hand person, who is a good teacher for the financial matter; though he is strict and had little touch with his words. At an advanced age, no one could blame him for his exhausted patience.

With his firm hand, Iwao sorts out her schedule ever since and meets her only when her real counselor, Manninbashi Tadao, is missing. She has never, not once, protested. Although at times her instructor is unnecessarily loud, rude and hard to understand, Tadao is nothing like him.

Tadao is young and has a fresh mind. He listens carefully to everything he's told, and he responds with the wisest words she could ever expect from someone who's just five years older than her.

While Iwao used to strongly remark that she was not ready nor would ever be, Tadao guided her patiently through every paper, every meeting and every signature. During the first months they had to work together, the young man became a great source of support.

Sometimes he must return to Nagoya and sort some conferences over there, assist other companies. But he always comes back, even though he well knows she can look after herself and the Estate perfectly. He likes to be there. Perhaps it's become a whim.

He might think she doesn't know this. She does. She's burdened everyday by his sweetened voice and the way he tries to reach for her hand every now and then. She evades every signal, but he's just as oblivious as he believes her to be.

The little velvet-lined box still remains inside her pocket, but at some point she forgets about that lingering answer.

…

It would not be a social gathering if she weren't surrounded by elderly women flattering her for being the first woman to take a lead on the Chitanda dynasty. Their mumbling resembles that buzz of a honeycomb. She giggles to herself for thinking like this before she realizes she's gotten lost in her thoughts again.

"How old are you by now, Eru-chan? Thirty is that correct?"

If she could, she'd intentionally dive into the maze of her own mind. Once more, as a social norm it seems, the suspected topic arises. Were it not for her innate patient nature, she could not be able to stand the upcoming remarks.

"Oh, how dare you add up years, Hirose-san? She's only twenty eight by now, aren't you? Ah, such a good age to get married, indeed."

Another commenter joins in.

"Are your parents not presenting you with young men from their acquaintances yet?"

"Speaking of, I have a grandson who's part of Yokohama University's law firm. He just turned thirty this past month."

She breathes in and out quietly even in the eye of the hurricane.

"At the moment, I find it very difficult to meet anyone outside of business affairs."

She smiles politely after the period of her sentence. The eyes of her audience widen in disbelief and the urge to ask if she's on her right mind. But they cannot do, for her response seems irrefutable.

…

She's free to leave the studio and go out into the night, where no one can pressure her into answering anything. She finds comfort sitting on the veranda in front of the empty gardens of her house, and closes her eyes for a moment.

Tonight the air is light and the wind is calm, but there's no peace inside. At this very moment, looking into the dark sky, she wonders where _he_ could be and if _his_ heart still races at times like this, when yesterday seems so close that it could repeat itself and burn everything to ashes all over again. Because this is what she feels like tonight.

.

 _-Monday-_

.

"Yes, Manninbashi-san, I faxed the papers this morning. It-"

She rushes downstairs since her line is approaching and her destination is not nearby. Tadao keeps on talking on the other side of the line while she cannot waste a single second and continues to leaf through the pinned pages of her binder.

The pressure is too overwhelming to pay attention to the way. A young man, running in the opposite direction seems to be in the same troubled situation as he doesn't see her either.

Inevitably, their ways collide.

The phone and papers, everything she was carrying falls off her hands. The man barely moves an inch and continues to flee.

Her immediate action is to gather up the things scattered on the floor around her feet.

Somebody kneels before her, a couple of tan hands mimic hers while pilling up papers.

Her heart skips a beat at first, then a familiar, unstoppable echo inside her chest absorbs her for a second. Slowly and cautiously, she lifts her gaze into the air. Her eyes cannot be lying to her. Not this close.

At first sight, from afar, he thought a stranger was in trouble. He wanted to help out of little altruism. But the first step he took onto the stairs was enough to focus clearly.

Her hair is shorter, so much shorter. She wears a black skirt and a flat coat. Only because he still recalls every detail of hers that is untouched, he recognizes her. He always will.

The problem is, he was not ready yet. At least not that fast.

He can feel her eyes on him now. He wants to know they're still as large and bright as he remembers them to be. So he looks up, maybe somewhat hesitant or just afraid.

Their gazes feel like a mirror as they paint the other's picture just how they used to on dim rainy days. It all comes back just at the same speed at which their hearts race.

" _You are back."_

" _Eru…"_

They mutter a faint, thin thread of sound that can only be heard by no one else but themselves.

In the background, a speaker keeps calling out until a hanging beep replaces the voice; a train approaches and people keep walking around them.

…

Their tastes seem to remain untouched, a vanilla latte for her, an Americano for him.

"How have you been?"

She plays with the cream on top of her coffee when she's nervous. He grasps the handle of his mug and it's not warm anymore. Their silence has gone on for too long.

"Well. What about you?"

"I'm glad. I have, too. Is Canada nice?"

"Ah- yeah. It's… different, but you get used to it after a while."

"It sounds interesting."

They finally take a first sip of their drinks, shifting their eyes away, then back to the other when they think it isn't too obvious.

Her phone starts ringing again, taking them out of a mutual silence. Leaving her cup aside, she gets up.

"Will you excuse me?"

He nods and she proceeds to come out to the sidewalk.

Once more, it's Tadao who calls, worried about her sudden disappearance and fast to remind her of the work day ahead of her. Discouraged, she goes back inside with the best smile she can put on even if embarrassed.

He is still holding down his cup, which as hers, is not near being half-empty.

"I have to leave… A meeting just came up."

She announces to his surprise. Even if it was mostly concurred silence, their time was so short that it feels like a stumble.

"I'm really glad that I had the chance to see you."

Although he does not answer with actual words, his humble glance is more than enough. She still hesitates within. Perhaps, if they had said it in the past, a second time would be easier.

"Goodbye, Oreki-san."

It could be most definitive now, but he doesn't want to let it be. Seeing her bow, turn around and walk out through the glass doors cannot be definitive now. At least not yet. So he follows her before she vanishes.

" _Eru."_

His deep and soothing voice, the way it spells out her name does not fail to make her body go stiff.

His imagination runs wild, bringing a number of possible paths this could lead to, perhaps in one of them he could hold her just a little longer. But in reality, he still faces her back as she replays.

"Yes?"

It takes her a large amount of courage to gather her breath. She feels her fingernails burying into her palms as she turns around to meet his eyes again. She continues to try and lie with a fake expression of serenity, but the tension is intrinsically weakening.

"Which way are you going?"

There's that mild smile of hers again. There's that drifting glare of his in return.

"Since I have to run, I'll take a taxi."

Both face the intersection before them.

…

She cannot help but to absorbedly stare at him, so wholeheartedly that this consumes the time it takes them to wait. Before she can dawn on it, she's already sat at the back of a car on her way to the office. At that same moment, he crosses the street, resuming on his way to the subway.

Now she cannot look back, because all her eyes could grasp would be the same image walking off to nowhere, alone.

…

She sits alone in her room, holding onto her knees. The night seems to advance slowly, or she simply stopped paying attention at the tick-tock coming from the clock hung on the wall in front of her.

All her senses are trapped into the recurrent memory of his eyes when he looked back at her; his hands when he held his cup; his shoulders covered in white flakes of ice as he waited for the green light to turn red. But above all: his voice. The repetition the echo left behind his unique manner of pronouncing her name is the center of her enthrallment.

Yet, this does not fully mean she is allowing herself to feel happy, because she is entirely conscious of what happened to them. Everything she's repressed for years is trying to find a way out, but there's guilt, and it comes above it all, it crashes her, it keeps her caged inside her own mind.

She is willing to accept his anger even if he has no way of expressing it, even if he chooses to hide it.

A _beep_ does not do much to burst into her sphere of mixed emotions and vivid memories. However, two more identical sounds do make her turn her head to find her cellphone's screen on, displaying three messages:

 _« Chi-chan, I need to ask you a favor._

 _I hope I didn't catch you sleeping, sorry if I did._

 _Call me if you're up, okay? »_

They come from no one else but her old friend, accompanied by sappy characters. She smiles before hitting the key that'll put her through with Mayaka.

She has been invited to a shopping trip in search of art supplies for her best friend's next project in exchange of a tasty meal downtown. Of course she would not refuse.

It's late and she's had an exhausting day, and though her mind is still occupied enough to keep her awake the entire night, she manages to fall into one blank dream.

…

She went back to addressing him as if they had just met; she radiated the same nervousness she had the first time they shared a coffee table; she kept running from place to place like she did when she used to drag him around school.

All the little things he noticed seemed like another beginning, so why did it not feel like a fresh first step?

They were no longer, nor could ever be again, strangers. He recognized every little gesture. He had spent enough nights making out her figure in the middle of the cold and darkness. Starting all over was out of reach.

When they meet, he knows he has a promise to fulfill, but only if she wants him to.

He closes his eyes for the night and there's something waiting for him in his sleep. Something vibrant and life-giving.

…

\- August, _beautiful._ -

…

For the first time in his short life he felt he'd found his place. Whichever forces had to gather up for him to be gifted with such a perfect moment, he always thanked.

It was hard to contain the instinctive impulse of his long, thin fingers as they aimed for a face they'd learnt to draw out even in the darkness. His wish to not disturb a peaceful dream always brought his hand back to the bedsheet's wrinkles.

This torments him every time they meet this way. Because the light shining through the curtains always bathes her transparent skin, enticing him to hold and never let go, but making her look so ethereal that he is still afraid to reach out and break her fragile image.

.

 _-Tuesday-_

.

Today she spent an exhausting day at Iwao's office, Tadao's replacement for the week; but especially today, seeing his tanned, wrinkled frown became more difficult to tolerate.

She walks across streets and crosses a few intersections in her way to meet Mayaka. Indistinct conversations play in the background, while at the back of her mind, the noise of the past pains her ears.

As much as she hates the downfall of her youth, she convinced herself a long while ago that it was her purposeful mistake to make. To follow those words even when they contaminated her father's will, that is.

…

\- February, _no nostalgia._ -

…

The first news she's given at the table during breakfast knot the pit of her stomach. Many times in the past her father has remained reassured in situations of this gravity. He thanks Ibuki for bringing the mail and proceeds to neatly fold his white napkin, ready to leave.

After these many years of ceaselessly trying to learn everything his wisdom has to offer, she still cannot mimic the dignified and serene manner in which her father handles any affair, from the way he raises a cup, to the fashion in which his signature engraves on paper.

Her grandfather, the one who runs the entire clan with just the tip of his finger, has summoned Tetsugo and the rest. The old man has ancient beliefs; unlike her father, he still wants the family to only grow through profitable arrangements.

While Tetsugo never persuaded her to find a wealthy prospect, her grandfather did think otherwise.

"He will bring a professor from Nagoya University and present him to you."

"Father, I could never…"

"I'm aware it is nonsensical. You do not have to fulfill his request."

Her eyes widen, though she hates to be weak in front of her father. It breaks her heart just as it relieves it from an unbearable weight, because now the weight is passed onto him.

…

Her back does not hurt at the angle she has to bend it in order to say these words.

"I beg your pardon, Grandfather."

Has her chest shrunken? Her heart bounces hysterically inside of it now, so relentlessly that even her knees tremble at its pulse.

"I cannot agree to this resolution."

Though it is impossible for her to see the man's expression, she knows those eyes must be placed over the one man kneeling by her side.

"Who will you rely on to perpetuate the business if it is not someone as prepared as young Tadao-kun?"

"I will do so myself, Grandfather."

The man inhales and exhales heavily, but no words come out of his breath.

When she's allowed, more precisely, asked to leave the office, Tetsugo remains. If it's a choice whether or not she holds her tears in front of her father, it is most definitely a command not to expose them to her grandfather.

Has Tetsugo spoiled her by not forcing a future onto her? Has his hand been too benevolent on her by letting her heart speak for itself?

She questions. Sitting still inside the living room, her expression's stable. Her mother, who's a lot more like her in nature, runs a caring hand over her shoulder.

"Don't be afraid, Eru. He can do more than solve the situation, you and I both know he can."

The child nods but her heart is still racing.

…

Once Tetsugo and his family return to their quiet dining room, he has got news.

Although he spoke through all senses to keep his daughter free, the ambiguous response from his father rather means she has to fulfill one request still involving a stranger into her life.

If Manninbashi Tadao won't serve as a husband, he will do as mentor. Her fists want to ball tightly, but her fingers tremble as she knows that, only for now, all she can do is cast down her eyes and let this be her destiny.

Not so deep inside, she has always known this was blatantly plotted by their eldest for her to redeem from the weight of her decision.

She has always bear that guilt, because there is no way she could fit Tadao where someone else fits perfectly.

.

 _-Tuesday-_

.

"Chi-chan!"

A pair of thin arms suddenly wrap around hers. It's cold and this endeared greeting warms up her heart, retrieving it from something not worth recalling.

"Maya-san, I didn't see you."

"Of course you didn't. Eyes always on the road when you're on an intersection, okay?"

Both of them giggle as the light for pedestrians turns green. They walk ahead. For now she can focus on her friend and look forward their time.

…

As the sun starts to settle, wind becomes more aggressive, so unexpectedly that they have to cancel half of their plans. Both women ride a cab to get across town but Mayaka receives a call on the way.

"Come on, does it have to be now?!"

She seems to have no other option as she gets off the vehicle near her workplace, not without promising first to come see her. She hands the key to the house and begs her to wait just while she deals with whatever awaits at her office.

Because Mayaka promised to be there soon, she accepts the idea.

Soon after the sky turns dark, wind is cold and each minute it runs faster.

…

Mayaka's humble apartment remains quiet as it is completely empty. The TV is broadcasting the weather report off-schedule.

 _« […] is now 13 kilometers per hour directing east. As of the current course of action, snow removal vehicles will begin their duty once the velocity of the wind reaches a decline. Citizens are utterly advised to remain indoors- »_

A snowstorm is approaching the city, and even when it's predicted to last little, she's fast to dial Mayaka's number under huge concern. The phone only rings a couple of times and she's already walked back and forth across the room.

 _« I'm fine, I'm fine. I'll stay here until the wind slows down and the streets are cleared, don't worry. »_

Though her friend's tone is confident, she cannot stop fiddling her fingers after the call ends due to poor connection.

She gets up from the seat and decides to have a glass of water. Just when she turns the tap and the clear stream starts to flow, there's a knock at the main door. She runs over wearing a half-relieved smile while pulling the door open.

"Maya-san, you're ba-?"

But it isn't Mayaka the one waiting outside. He is just as frozen, speechless for a moment.

"… I thought-"

His nose and cheeks are reddened. She steps aside as soon as she notices he's coming from the cold while wearing such a thin jacket.

"Come on inside, you must be freezing."

…

An unknown amount of time goes by, were it not for the news still playing on the screen, the house would be as dead as if it were empty.

"Maya-san said she won't leave her office until it's better outside, so she's safe."

She finally initiates an exchange of words.

"Satoshi's trapped inside a train. Seems like it will be delayed a couple of hours."

Nervous and quite hesitant, he finally decides to sit down in front of her. At that distance, his voice can be much clearer.

"Would you tell on me if I turned on the coffee maker? It's cold in here too."

He externs a question out of the blue, she shakes her head with a little eagerness nonetheless.

"Of course not."

"While I'm at it… do you want tea or-?"

She smiles, this is warm enough for her.

"No, thank you. I was going to help Maya-san prepare dinner."

…

He sits at the table, quietly waiting for something he's now forgotten. The only ticking sound is that of a knife cutting through vegetables. She's extremely concentrated and he's absorbed by that.

A realization comes back to him and he still owes her a remark.

"You cut your hair."

The continuity of her actions doesn't stop as she answers.

"It helps giving off a sense of maturity. People take me more seriously like this."

"People?"

The beeping of the coffee maker becomes a great reason to go into the kitchen, even when he just recalls he had to. It makes her feel nervous when he stands beside her.

"Yes. In meetings and such business matters."

"Wait… You're not working in the fields?"

The question doesn't trigger any words, and that's enough to realize he's found an answer he cannot accept. He's gotten close right next to her, searching for her eyes, for her lost voice.

"Eru, that's what you wanted to do."

"That was a while ago. Some things had to change."

This time she responds fast, she feels surrounded like she's been caught doing something wrong. It throws her out of focus and soon the knife slides off of her hand. It hits the floor but she doesn't react.

He doesn't hold back when an old instinct of his tells him to make sure she's fine. And she is, her hands are in perfect condition.

"Oreki-san, I don't think you realize-"

She holds her breath for a second. When he's dropped the knife into the sink and is back to face her fully, she looks into his eyes only for a brief moment, only long enough to be through with her words.

"I might not be what you remember."

" _You are._ Except for one thing."

It's difficult to think straight, to remind himself that years have gone by, and to realize he lost the right to get this close a while ago.

"You became quiet."

"… I ran out of things to say."

Her hand lies on his chest, perhaps as a measure of distance, which is pointless as he feels dangerously closer every second. There's no opposing strength when his heartbeat comes through her fingers.

"That's impossible."

Daring to graze her hair, his hand almost trembles, almost falls back. He utters a soft whisper.

"Inside this head, there's always a lingering question."

She's seen this determination on him before, the same one that drew in every time he couldn't put out any more words. It is what places his hand on the counter when he leans in.

Their fingers have looked out for the other before, until a grip tied their hands together just like now.

Even after complete years of numbness, her senses seem more alive than ever. His scent, his breathing, his warmth; she can perceive it all so strongly.

And how could she deny that every bit of her longs for every bit of him?

She cannot lie to herself when his lips find hers and a smooth graze retrieves what they've both yearned for in secret.

She wants to get lost in this sudden rush that takes away her breath. But before hope begins to creep onto her, the damned weight of guilt forbids everything she wishes for.

"… _Let's not."_

Her hand pulls onto his wrist and he freezes at that before feeling defeated. His forehead lies against her temple in search for reliance, expecting to gather up some courage again.

"I think I should leave. The storm is probably over by now, I'll-"

Too fast to grasp it, she pulls away from his touch.

"Is it really that hard to see me?"

Those words escape his mouth when she rushes out of the kitchen. Now it is her who paralyzes before the door.

"In fact, it hurts."

She turns the knob slowly, there is something she wants to make clear even if her voice cracks at the end of every word.

"The last time things went this fast, I lost you. I don't ever want to hurt you again."

A sudden rush takes hold of his body when he runs after her, fearing she will slip through his fingers once again. But she warns him without looking back.

"Please. Don't come after me."

His breath is stolen and there is nothing more to it when she disappears. Perhaps it _is_ too soon even after so long.

…

\- September, _defenseless._ -

…

He can't feel his eyes burning. His body is not sore. He could go on with or without sleep and it would not make a difference.

But there's this urge. This unreasonable force telling him to run, to hide and never be sought. And it threatens him. It threatens to take it all away from him the moment his eyes close.

So he escapes. He wants to feel protected, to know everything is right where he left it, so that when he opens his eyes again, nothing will have vanished.

…

A few blocks before he gets there, his nerves begin to wreck, yet he keeps on walking, passing by empty streets and closed doors.

He scratches his head, his feet turn desperately in circles once he's outside of her door.

She jumps out of bed at the sound of the doorbell, hasty to rub her eyes and walk down the stairs. Her mind works fast in an attempt to figure out who may it be and whether or not she should answer.

 _« Eru, it's me. »_

Thin as the air that night, a voice whispers outside.

All her breath drains out of her lungs as soon as she opens the door. He looks pale, his eyes are tired and shadowed under his hair.

"Are you okay?"

A lie creeps up inside his head, fast to take hold of his voice.

"… I missed the last train back to Kamiyama…"

Without the need to know more, her hands reach out to his, dragging him into the place, then running over his shoulders and arms to bring some warmth back to his body.

"Did something happen?"

He denies with a motion and a faint curve forms at the corner of his lips.

"I spent the day in campus. I'm just tired."

"I bet you are."

She does not question anything else as it seems like just words take away more strength than he has left.

He takes her hand for a brief moment.

"I can sleep here, you should go back to your room."

She nods only because even his grip is weak and she does not know how else to respond to it.

…

A while goes by, it is impossible for her to conciliate with her sleep knowing he's downstairs curling on a couch with nothing else but a blanket and a cushion under his head.

…

Time goes by slowly but his heart still races even after lying down.

A wave of selfishness washed over him the second he stood by her doorsill. A greater impulse than before and an even weaker self-consciousness pushed him into the room.

He's been hesitating the entire night. Just lying next to her should be enough of a cure to this restless feeling that has yet to leave his chest.

" _I'm sorry."_

 _Shush…_ A lull sound cradles him in.

This is the one thing he cannot lose.

" _I'm sorry…"_

At this moment it all hits him. At this precise moment he feels exhausted and wishes to remain still and silent, to close his eyes and let her cover him.

…

He knows this is all he needs. This is the small part of himself he cannot lose. The warmth of a caress, the softness of her lips pressed against his forehead.

He is certain it would all be worth it if all of his days ended like this.

…

Sunlight breaks into the room through the same window that sometimes outlines the falling rain. He's afraid of opening is eyes, but the radiance is fierce even through the skin of his eyelids.

A sharp line of brightness turns into a detailed picture, soon his heart feels a thousand pounds lighter. As though an excerpt of imagery has escaped his favorite book just to come to life, she lies there, still next to him. Still reminiscing a wingless angel.

To him, there is nothing more beautiful.

" _I'm sorry for not telling you."_

Her palm and fingers retrieve warmth to his face, and in a graze he finds the reassurance she's conveying. He feels like begging for her touch to stay, but he's already been selfish enough.

"Don't you have to leave?"

"Later."

…

Her eyes are big and bright, but not in the usual way. This time she cannot look away, she cannot leave, she cannot wake him up just yet. He seems so defenseless, so brittle.

A little more than an hour has flown by since he opened his eyes only to apologize again. Though she could remain there, running her fingers through his hair, guarding over his sleep for however long it takes; she knows she'll run out of time to do the things she's responsible of for today.

Because she needs to free herself in order to visit their hometown, she decides to leave only for a while.

" _Don't move…"_

She whispers with the same softness with which her hands release him, careful not to scare away whatever he's dreaming of.

He can stay for as long as he wishes, so there is no need to move.

…

He's not there when she comes back to the house. Probably embarrassed by his asking, he left silently while she was gone. She finds it endearing, but a smile is not enough to lighten her worries.

A note lies on her pillow.

 _« Thank you. »_

She cannot wait for Sunday to arrive.

.

- _Tuesday_ -

.

As expected, the streets are being cleared once the wind has died down. A taxi driver, kind enough to help her, is patient behind the stirring wheel, watching traffic advance too slowly.

She sits at the back, thinking while looking outside the window.

It's been so long.

…

\- September, _defenseless._ –

…

Sunday arrives and as planned she's back home at least for today. Nothing much has happened in the Estate, but there is one question her mother makes that keeps lingering on her throughout the morning.

"Is Oreki-san ill? He hasn't been around here for the past couple of weeks. You should pay him a visit if you have the chance to."

The suggestion seems so casual, but she knows something is not right.

…

He'd never known a thing about ambition. Until he met her. He decided he wanted to earn and deserve every word, touch and kiss she had for him and only him. So that one day in the future, he'd be able to stop fearing she'd be fed-up with his simplicity.

For the past eight months, half of his time he studies, the other half he works at Tetsugo's office. He makes a great effort to do decently at both, to match up the profile the Chitandas need to not take their daughter from his side. Yet, today he just does not feel like leaving his room. The same thing happens twice, thrice, he's lost count at this point.

He failed one of his exams, miraculously not the rest. But since it was the last in the semester, he has to either try again or repeat the course the next period. That would take a lot of time, he would only slag on his plans. So he decides to attempt once more and barely succeeds.

…

Today his morning goes by like water slipping through his fingers. He knows she's most probably in town by now, but he'll be cornered if they meet, and he doesn't have any answers to give just yet.

No one knows of him, but one person: Satoshi.

…

She tries to look for him, she really wants to see him. However, all of her calls end up pointless as he doesn't answer a single one of them. From all possible ways to find an answer, there's only one person at the top of her head.

"Satoshi-san, are you home?"

 _« Yeah. What's the matter, Chi-san? »_

"I'll meet you as soon as possible."

There's a strangeness in Satoshi's voice that only adds up to the suspense keeping her at a loss. In hopes of knowing anything that could lead to him, she knocks on his door.

…

Satoshi barely responds to her presence, as if there is nothing he can tell her. He struggles to make any eye contact, he's not smiling nor joking nervously. As if frustration itself had knocked on his door, he steps aside against his own will, even before she talks any further.

There he is, sitting before the TV, paying attention to the gap between his feet. Finally, his elongated eyes meet hers. A weak grin appears.

"Is everything alright?"

She softens her expression, relieved to find him, but terrified of a number of possible answers. Yet, he does not utter a single one. He stares blankly at a face he's admired from the beginning.

"He wasn't just passing by, Chitanda-san."

Satoshi opens up his thoughts at last.

"What does that mean?"

Her eyes jump from face to face, not sure in which way an answer is coming.

"Nothing. I came to have a beer."

Somebody scoffs at his oblivious retort, and the one to wear a bitter smile isn't her.

"Just quit the crap, Houtarou."

The younger of the two men gives a step back, still incapable of directing his eyes to her. The older seems so careless.

"Let's go."

He's willing to leave, so he holds tightly onto her hand. Satoshi seems hopeless, beaten.

"You know you can't hide forever, dude."

Something triggers a hoarser voice from him, and he stops walking for a second.

"Shut it, Satoshi."

Just when they're one step away from the doorsill, Satoshi speaks louder, hurrying through his words, each time angrier.

"You think you're doing this for your own sake? If that's the case, then make those _your_ words. You don't want to do it? Fine, then so be it! … But don't hide behind someone else."

She tugs at his wrist, urging him to turn around. However, he still won't show his face.

For once and just for a split second, Satoshi finally directs his eyes towards her, apologetically. She could swear he's about to shed a tear over his flustered expression.

"This isn't against you, Chi-san. I just think he needs to see for himself. There are things I can't tell you if he won't. I'm sorry to keep you in the shadows."

The last image she sights is of their friend, who's always cheerful, now dropping down on the couch, his head hanging down under his hands. The door closes and everything darkens.

…

"What happened?"

Her voice is full of such dread while he can control his so steadily.

"Nothing. Come on, I'll take you home."

There is something he chose to keep hidden, but he seems so tired, even his hands feel weak. She agrees to his silence as they walk a long road.

…

She spends several nights scratching her head, trying to figure out the connection between that one night he kept apologizing, and the Sunday after when no one could get a word out of him.

" _Nothing"_ makes no sense. Such a bad lie must have a reason and she needs to find it.

For now she waits till they can be together again and she can ask him to tell her the truth.

.

\- _Wednesday_ –

.

It's past midnight by the time Satoshi and Mayaka show up into the room where he still sits.

"I thought she was still here. I need to make sure she's-"

He lowers the phone in her hands in one steady motion, and looks deadly serious when he does.

"… Did you plan this?"

None of the two hide away the answer, and it is Mayaka who lays it down in all fairness.

"Dinner, yeah. But we couldn't have possibly planned to be stuck out there because of the storm. We didn't mean to leave you alone."

She's clearly not done talking when her expression softens.

"You two needed to face each other."

"Look, I can't honestly say I'm sorry for tricking you both into this. Can you blame us for that?"

Satoshi's words add in, but they do not upset their friend in the least.

"No. Just, leave her alone, it's already been too much pressure."

He doesn't say anything else and soon leaves the place. Mayaka could have stretched a hand out to stop him and demand an explanation of what happened while they were gone. However, Satoshi's calm to keep her inside the room.

…

 _-Some time ago-_

…

Their university days were the longest and probably the most time they ever had.

On the last day of winter break, the speakers of the station announce the arrival of his train within a few minutes. He'll never forget blood burning through his veins, his heart hammering against his chest, and the scarf suffocating him no matter the many attempts to loosen it up.

She promised to be there like every previous year. He remembers his hands hidden in his pockets, protecting them from the cold.

Then, always running, she appeared, holding a hand at heart trying to catch her breath and apologizing at the same time. In less than a minute she reincorporated herself, looking determined to say something.

"Houtarou-san-"

She rushes to pull his hand out of his coat, sheepishly clutching it within hers. She was always braver than him.

Next thing she does is to lean in really closely, so much that he can feel the fragrance of her skin. She whispers something only he can hear. His eyes widen. Her face reddens and hides away but not far.

She smiles.

It was about time he was truthful to his heart's demands as well.

He had never imagined the taste of her lips until that very moment. He felt within that gentle of a graze that he'd found his first obsession.

The weight of four years of exchanged letters and missed opportunities suddenly dissipated in the wind.

…

Their time together reduced to almost none when her specialization days in Faculty began too soon after obtaining her college degree, forcing her to move into a bachelor apartment in Nagoya. At the same time, he'd started to dedicate half of his time to be a pupil at Chitanda Tetsugo's office; the other half was meant for university.

But, every now and then, the little time they steal from studying and working, belongs to the other.

"How has Father been treating you?"

"You know I can't complain. When will you be back?"

"August, maybe September… I wish I couldn't complain either."

"Let's go somewhere when you're back."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere you feel like going."

She chuckles in the dainty way that brings tender to his eyes.

 _Really, anywhere,_ he swears.

…

At their early twenties they were still building their paths parallel. They were still young, unsure of the next day, still naïve.

…

\- _Wednesday_ –

…

She forces herself to pay attention throughout the morning to whatever those around her talk about. If it were any other time before yesterday, she would be able to place her thoughts on work and only that.

Something hits her by surprise when a phone call arrives.

…

Tomoe receives her with a vivid smile and her colorful attire. Because she smiles in return, she realizes how much she missed that fresh, welcoming image. But she's also as straightforward as ever.

"You blamed yourself, didn't you, Eru-chan?"

It strikes the younger of the two, her eyes open wide and her lips part but nothing comes out. Once more, she feels uncovered.

"When I called you, at least I should've told you the complete story. Problem was, I didn't even know it… not all of it at least."

Tomoe shares a sad chuckle and suddenly doesn't seem as colorful as before.

"You have no idea for how long Houtarou kept sulking about that. But I was mad too and therefore blind."

A couple of minutes pass but there's no pressure on her from the other side. She recovers her smile and offers it once more.

"Dad's at his best now, you know? He's been for three years straight now. But, Houtarou… he wanted to be sure. He didn't want to jinx the chances of us being a family again. And, though he never told me this, he didn't want to rush his way back. Unexpectedly smart kid, I have to say."

Tomoe is opening her thoughts and heart to her, and for as much as she wants to return a word, she much rather listens to everything with most carefulness. The older knows that it's okay if she wants to keep quiet.

"There's a lot you probably don't know, I'm gonna let that one on him."

A hand places at the center of the table, like what's about to be said is an unbiddable order.

"You two need to talk, to give up that nonsensical guilt you keep bearing, and start over. Even if it leads to nothing, at least you'll end it right this time."

Her voice sounds imperative too at first, but then turns into a sweet sentence.

" _You deserve nothing less than one more chance."_

Tomoe holds her gaze wisely, sometimes even she forgets she's older and experience comes in handy. The innocent image sitting in front moves her so deeply that she remembers how to act like a big sister, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

"I've known my brother for a lifetime. It's obvious that you two are completely opposite in character… And yet, I see the same inside your eyes as I saw in his."

There it is, what she's speaking of, the glance of someone young but lost and afraid.

"I know it's been hard on both of you. I'm sorry I added up to that. I really am."

Tomoe gathers her things and stands up wearing a calm expression. Her job is done here.

"You're leaving already?"

"Gotta keep the world spinning."

Before she disappears, she lays her hand on the girl, stroking her head like she always does to her little brother.

"That's how I refer to work. You see, I'm a pretty sure planes help keep rotational forces going, that's my grain of sand to the world."

The little one laughs, this warm playfulness is nothing new coming from Tomoe, but she missed this trait of hers.

Tomoe may know better than her. Maybe she's only realizing now that she's been hiding all along.

…

\- September, _defenseless._ -

…

A few days back, while he wasn't in the room, she was the one to get a call from Tomoe. She's fast to pick up, since now she may find out what has happened to him. Fulfilling her mission, Tomoe quickly delivers the message.

"It's Dad…"

She attentively listens as Tomoe exposes their father's sudden breakdown, explaining every detail with a bit of sadness. Just how his nights at home had only been accompanied by the dirty smoke of drugstore cigarettes and the scent of cheap whisky. All because a bankrupt company took away everything he had worked for, leaving nothing but a lonesome retired man.

However, Tomoe does not know the full story. She did not know, that a few months back, by the idea of visiting a longtime friend, he had left their house under the care of his only son.

She is oblivious to the fact that her father had left Japan in order to meet her, believing he could break free from the scent of tobacco and alcohol, in hopes of patching up the distance between him and his daughter.

Unfortunately, the eldest of his kids was not ready to make peace. And while he was defying the state of a drifting mind, she couldn't take care of him. Until it all crashed.

The poor soul was alone, laid on a hospital bed.

…

Her hands quiver and eyes soon become watery at the thought of something so dreadful.

The call ends before he walks into the room, just to find her kneeling on the carpet, her eyes reddened and he does not know what to fear.

"Wh- what happened?"

She's so weak, nothing comes out of her lips.

 _Perhaps._ The question he's about to ask is taken back to his insides the moment she encloses his neck inside her arms. Slow to understand but quick to act, his hands run over her back, up and down in an attempt to calm her down.

His back, his shoulders, his arms, no matter how warm every part of him is, the cold shivers keep creeping down her spine.

…

\- October, _little pieces._ –

…

When October arrives, not only does it bring dim sunsets and a chilly breeze at night, it too carries a heavy burden, placing it on the young man's shoulders. She lets a few days go by and comes back again to face him.

"I talked to Tomoe-san."

He's reserved to speak for a while, his leg starts to jiggle anxiously.

"… Why didn't you tell me?"

Her voice is blank and he controls his so it won't stammer.

"Do I have to answer now?"

It feels like a stranger has taken over his words.

"I wish you had, a month ago… Why didn't you say anything back then?"

There it goes again, the suspending quietness of his indifference. It hurts, it torments her so deeply that she suddenly feels frustrated, unable to ease the pain. She's growing desperate, but he still won't look at her, speak to her, open up to her.

"You knew your father is hospitalized! H-How-"

" _What?"_

Her heart stops for a second.

But then her hands land on his shoulders trying to get him to look up, switching his expression from indifference to perplexity. She had never seemed so upset.

"Houtarou-san!"

"… _You don't know anything."_

An empty sound stings her ears. A cold voice, so lifeless that it makes her own throat go dry, echoes in the deepest corners of her head.

The arms that so furiously straightened out to bring some sense into him, now tremble as if it was the coldest night of winter.

She memorizes his back shadowing the moment he turned around, the banging of the door as he ran off, and the overwhelming silence flooding the room once the echo ceased to exist.

However, she repeats to herself that it cannot be his back; _it cannot be his voice_. She can't recognize the dead sound coming from those lips.

…

A month ago, perhaps that was the way his body cried out for help.

A month ago, he'd seemed so defenseless, shielding from reality inside the only refuge he'd ever known. He said he had spent the whole day in Nagoya due to his Faculty.

But he lied. He had skipped a week full of lectures already. He had woken up in the middle of the night only to buy a ticket at the closest train station. He had traveled a million feet away from his own world only to hide inside those clueless arms that so tenderly took him in.

…

In the end, everything had already started to crumble inside his small world.

And how could he resent her for realizing of a lie he'd prolonged for so long?

If anything, it pains the deepest places inside his chest to know she was making everything aside only to find out that he was, indeed, a coward.

So what was left for him to do? Stand back and watch the only good thing left in his life be gloomed by a broken promise was still _not_ an option.

…

They lose touch for a few more days. Time is good because it helps clearing up her thoughts, but it is the resource she lacks the most as of now.

After what happened, she still believes strongly that there's a warm side of him, one that perhaps he kept only for her, one that she could still rescue. So she puts her hand out several times over, in hopes that he'll reach for it.

"I can help if it's hard on you. I can ask for a week off at University and then we can come see him-"

Their time together takes this path whenever she's got a chance to beg him to see his family.

It pains her to witness him evade reality. He seems anxious most of the time but swears over and over with a stern voice:

"My dad's fine. He's always been fine."

Anger boils his head at the thought of having her against him just like his sister. The seriousness on her face seems like an exaggeration of the truth. His teeth creak at times when everything is too much and he's too little.

He confidently believes it will all be over after his father settles his mind, he's convinced that his well-being will come along on its own.

…

Many trials after, not even uncompleted talks are all they are left with. Soon, only arguments draw in every time they touch the subject, until they are trapped in this loop of hopelessness. Until she runs out of words and neither of them has a thing left to say.

…

\- November, _begin._ -

…

Because Tomoe still hangs in there at the wait of a response, she decides to talk to her.

"… Do you think you could take care of him just a little longer? I promise you Houtarou-san will be there soon."

"You don't need to lie to me, Eru-chan… I've been trying to get through his head for months now."

Confusion comes in the shape of a sharp, numbing silence. Is she really that clueless?

"Take as long as you please… He's already putting his life on the palm of your hand."

Her voice dries out and she cannot mouth a response. Suddenly it seems like the air has become heavier.

 _« Don't say that. »_ She begs, but it's impossible for the other to hear a voice trapped inside her chest.

It's not the way Tomoe spoke, but the realization that came after her last statement.

Perhaps, only perhaps, _she_ is the only reason keeping him in Japan, the only tie he's got left.

…

Her father's office.

"It would not be of personal concern whether he assisted the office or not if he were a worker. However, you must understand that we are not acquainted to Oreki-san by mere work, there is you as well. That responsibility-"

 _Responsibility._ It is clear that he's not hers, but then maybe no one understands that as much as she's convinced herself of it.

"Father… Houtarou-san has his own life. He doesn't owe anything to anyone, not to us, not to me. I do not want him to feel like I am his responsibility."

The place turns cold, even the man at the desk freezes to place all attention over his daughter.

"At first we believed guiding the business with someone you are fond of would help. However, now we're starting to reconsider whether or not you should be emotionally involved with said person, Eru. For your own well."

"Sweetheart, it is plain to see something is hurting you."

Her mother speaks in a soft voice that makes her smile a little, just enough to reassure them both.

"I believe things will fall into place soon, so I beg you not to worry about us."

…

\- December, _give up._ –

…

Tonight everything feels different. The wind is too quiet, the cold is unbearable and outside nothing but a thick, ghostly fog blurs every possible path. Today she doesn't feel like herself, nor does he.

Today, there's nothing to hold onto, she has to give it up.

"Have you got everything you need?"

"I'm fine. It'll just take two days."

The semester is finally over, only paperwork separates him from setting free of exams. For that, he must spend some time near campus.

"I know. I had something-… something to ask you."

Before the knot in her throat entangles harder, before it chokes her, she lets out what she'd practiced throughout the night.

"When you come back… please don't look for me."

He stops, the shirt half folded on the bed.

"… What-?"

Perhaps all the missed sleep is dawning over his mind, making him incapable of comprehending the words that sound like an acrid déjà vu.

" _Let's end here."_

An incredulous gaze meets a pair of eyes that, all of a sudden, seem unknown and impossible to decipher.

"… Why?"

His words are so repressed by a pitiful mutter that envelopes them. He gulps. Not even looking at her anymore, he continues with his luggage, trying hard to find some resistance within himself.

"You have to go back to your family, not to me."

He tosses the shirt he'd folded into the bag as a sting of anger arouses from the pit of his stomach. Amongst the thousands of reasons he was expecting, she chooses the one that seems the vainest.

"Why are we going through this again?"

"… I want you to tell me what's bothering you. I need to know if you feel anger, sadness, fear, anything. But you won't speak to me. I cannot read your mind and I cannot hear your heart… _I tried to help you_."

She clenches her hands together.

"But I don't recognize you anymore."

Even though it takes all of her efforts to seem strong, she still speaks forth.

" _I don't know what else to do."_

Suddenly, his defeated heart deflates into one beat at a time, a pace that is so deplorable that all it can fill his veins with is frustration.

He pulls the zipper of the bag until the mess is hidden inside.

Then, all he can retort are senseless words out of a pride he never meant to have.

"… Then, everything I gave in for you… was it worth nothing?"

A bitter silence stabs his ears when she doesn't mouth a word for the longest minute.

"… Am I really that much to you? So much that you are turning your back on your own family only to follow _my_ wishes?"

A tear almost finds its way out. She holds her gaze up, desperately urging him to speak but it is now him who's gone silent.

They hurt her too; her own words, that is. But of course he cannot know that. If he won't look at her, at least it'll be easier to keep up her double-edged speech.

"I cannot be an excuse anymore, Houtarou-san."

He, still not looking at her, walks out onto the stairs under the most ingenuous excuse he could think of.

"I forgot something."

Running away has become the only habit she could ever hate of him, because it enlarges the distance between the two.

…

At a lack of excuses, he holds onto the counter, thinking hard of how to stop everything: the anger, the despair, the fear.

She's behind him, wary of her steps and the tone of her voice.

"I'll be leaving now-"

The words are muted by the phone. It continues to ring but he doesn't turn around. He wishes he had, for that devious noise deafened him while she was leaving decisively.

As per usual for some months now, the answering machine does its job. A familiar voice comes up and detonates everything bottled inside of him.

" _DAMMIT, TOMOE!"_

Something crashes the moment his hand clashes onto the counter with a strength he never knew was his. Yet again, he's deaf to anything, even to the ongoing message of his sister, even to the broken pieces of porcelain falling onto the floor.

The anger is soon gone. A single word strikes him.

"Eru."

When he turns around, his field of vision is blocked by the door, shut carefully and silently a moment earlier.

It only takes him a second to pull it open, rushing out into the amber light coming from a streetlamp. Friction stops his feet onto the pavement as his eyes revolt, desperately trying to spot a familiar silhouette.

Only fog surrounds him.

He was never one to act aggressively, so where did the red droplets clashing onto the concrete come from? His hand is scratched and bleeding slowly; only now does he realize it probably hurts.

…

Her breath shortens when she locks herself inside her room. However, it's impossible to take all of her words back. It's impossible to stand on his way, or much worse, to hold him back.

She cannot do that. That's why she gave him up. Now he doesn't have to.

…

He's empty-handed, officially lost. The train doesn't stop, just like time won't.

He disappointed the one person who believed in him the most, the one who gave out her heart just to show him the bright side of himself. The one whose eyes shone at the slightest sight of him.

But he knows, he saw it coming the moment she stopped talking, smiling, holding his hand. He'd already lost her but it was her who had to open his eyes.

He looks for a pen and a blank page. The clearest thoughts he's had thus far now pour onto the paper.

…

A familiar bicycle rests against the front wall and beside it he's waiting still. Before she arrives to the entrance, he walks forward, dragging the wheels on one side.

It scares her to think that she'll have to repeat herself, she's already lost that pretended confidence. But he looks just as defeated.

…

His eyes extend across her face only to fall into her gaze. So silently, he remakes every feature twice, engraving them inside himself, trying to keep her a little longer this one last time.

Because of the way her brows purse, he knows he's done enough things wrong. He knows now.

"… Why are you behaving like this?"

Reticence is all she gets for an answer.

As she's about pass him by definitively this time, not even a grasp, but a half-hearted, scared caress breaks her momentum. His fingers hesitate to touch her but still do enough to stop her.

"Just… one second, then I'll be gone."

He slides a neatly folded piece of paper inside her palm. One second passes painfully fast.

"Please… go."

The speed at which she retreats her thin fingers from his grip is the same at which a thunderbolt hits the earth. It was all too fast and him too weak to hold tighter.

…

Still, just like yesterday and tomorrow, he wants to wake up from this distasteful dream and find her under the sun. Even if the light blinded him, it would all be worth it all over again.

…

What he never knew is that she looked back. She watched him leave, his back vanishing too far from her fingers to reach out.

She wondered, how stupidly selfish would it be to run after him, to hold onto him after all she'd said?

He doesn't know her heels finally began to tremble as soon as they crossed the gateway. He doesn't know she's too scared to open the envelope but too desperate to know what's been on his mind.

…

« _You have no idea of how many times I've been thinking lately about how much easier things could have been if we had kept our separated ways._

 _I never thought it would be like this with you. You were my first everything, and I was certain that was all I needed. But now we are lonely even when we lie next to each other. Thanks to your honesty, I realized of one thing: we're not the same as before. Now we fight over the other's problems instead of talking through them._

 _I'm going to see my dad. I will end my work here. I have already talked with your father about this; he'll soon find someone else, so do not worry._

 _Since I know you, I'm asking you not to fear, because I would never be able to hate you in the least. Not today, not in ten years._

 _I'm sorry you had to put up with everything until now. One day I'll come clean, but now it's not the right time._

 _Let's go somewhere if we meet then. Really, anywhere._

 _\- Houtarou. »_

…

That night she brought her hands to her face and her head to her knees while her body curled up and got lost inside a dark room.

…

\- January, _unapologetic._ –

…

A chain of polite knocks on her door would come every now and then, so she made sure to never make a sound, to pretend she was not awake. But then one day, a familiar voice came back.

" _Chi-chan, it's fine if you don't want to open the door. I just need to know you're okay. I won't leave until then."_

She may have hidden long enough.

The door slides to the left and her friend stands there. Just like their past years, Mayaka can never show a hint of sharpness towards her. She offers the best she can think of: a couple of arms surrounding her closely.

"I hate to see you like this."

Her arms are weak and clumsy, they cannot reciprocate the same tenderness Mayaka conveys.

"… I let go of him."

Her friend's eyes widen at the first thing she mutters.

"You did nothing wrong."

"… I left him alone."

If her body is as weak as her voice, Mayaka fears she will fade away.

"We all need time on our own. He's strong and he'll handle this. But it is something he has to sort out with his family, letting him go was as much as you could do for him."

Could she be right? For so long, all she wanted was to hear from someone, anyone, that what she was doing was right. And even after Mayaka brought those exact words to reality, she still feels like she betrayed her as well.

…

Mayaka was clueless when she finally returned home from visiting relatives on the countryside during a few months.

She tried to know better on her own, but it was already too late even to say farewell. Though they never got along all too well, it still upsets her.

At first Satoshi didn't offer an explanation, but she demanded to know. At last, he gave in after breaking into a few tears between sadness and helplessness.

"You know? He's my friend too."

Mayaka's warm heart still aches when she thinks of the time she couldn't be of any help, but she also believes strongly in the words she now offers to her dearest friend.

"How did you find out?"

She asks in response.

"Fuku-chan told me... Though I've known Houtarou for longer, he still understands him the best."

She smiles, but such a forlorn image doesn't fit with the gesture.

"I'm sorry, this wasn't something I could easily tell you."

"Even Fuku-chan held it back for a long time. He was the only one Houtarou ever talked to-"

Mayaka's voice becomes smaller as she continues, but there's no need to speak too far.

"Don't burden yourselves, I won't ask you what happened in the past. I don't need to know."

They remain quiet but words seem so unnecessary, that the lack of them falls right into place.

…

Before the end of winter break arrives, Satoshi stands by the side of a street she's about to cross. He's wearing that same old varsity jacket and a woolen scarf of bright colors.

"How are you?"

He finally asks after minutes of strolling silently across downtown.

"Sorry. I'm really sorry."

The young man had held a grudge against her, one so subtle that it vanished in the same way withered flowers turn to dust at the slightest wave of wind. Now he feels burdened by the weight of her words and her lost image.

"Perhaps things would have turned out better if I had told you."

In return, Satoshi offers a friendly hand, one that pats her shoulder gently and reassuring.

"You're too apologetic, Chi-san. I won't hold that against you."

He smiles wholeheartedly to a good old friend he cannot afford to lose.

.

\- _Thursday_ -

.

Today Tomoe dropped by in the morning and they talked. Soon after, she left him alone in the house once more. So there he remains, thinking while preparing the place to be a home again.

…

\- February, _no nostalgia_. -

…

The place lacks furniture, but he could not care less. The view from the window is that of a foreign night, a vain picture that does not move anything inside of him. Not curiosity, not even homesickness. At night, all he has to do is sleep, the difficult should come as soon as sunlight breaks into the room.

…

As promised by Tomoe, finding a job is no problem. He does not even have to speak fluently the foreign language. He'll do just fine now that he's assigned into a compatriot company. He'll learn on the way.

On his first day off, it takes him a great amount of courage and a repressed resentment to walk into a white room. Of course, it was easier for his sister to cleanse her hands by tossing their old man into a sanitarium.

Yet she stands there in a corner, arms crossed over the brightly-colored handbag she carries around. He knows she's never been able to stand in the same room as the old man for too long, but at least she's trying.

 _He._ If there's a way of explaining what this image causes the young man, he wants to know it. A pair of spectacles does little to nothing to deviate attention from the bags under his eyes. Against the headboard, he rests his back. His head hangs down. How come the man's become so fragile?

"How are you?"

He hums a positive sound.

"Dad… I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier."

He holds his stern but truthful gaze on the man. He is more tired of denying him that he ever was from looking after him.

His father presses his lips together, and they soon offer a peaceful grin. Still, his eyes remain on his lap.

"Why are you so soft on him?"

A whine rises from a corner. The familiar silhouette now blocks his view.

"You are too old to be causing trouble. _This_ is why _she_ left-!"

"Tomoe, that's enough."

The stern voice he probably inherited from this old office worker in front of them brings quietness into the room. A series of furious thuds makes their way towards the youngest.

"Are you serious, Houtarou? You're gonna defend him after all?!"

Tomoe has the warm blood of a wild horse, he reminds himself. The contrast between the two males and her is still unbelievable to him. So he wonders if he resembles their father that much.

"This might be your first time facing him, but it isn't mine."

His sister's orbs become wide at his stoical response, and a heated grunt bounces against his shoulder once she runs out of the room.

She'll learn to cope with this. He knows she will.

The recent rant does nothing to abstain him from following suit with the promise he inscribed on his last letter. So he sits next to his old man, ready to let him know that they can always start anew; ready to stay here.

"I said I would not do it again, son."

The elder finally words a response.

"I remember. You… just need to promise it again, for good."

The tired eyes behind those spectacles hide under the reflection of light as his head goes up.

The younger places a small book on his lap.

"I thought you'd get bored in here."

His father smiles weakly and helplessly, but he does.

…

When he comes back home at night, Tomoe is already inside. She's sitting in front of the window, but it's dark out there, so the glass mirrors her face, her stuffy eyes and her arms proudly crossed.

"You think it doesn't hurt me?"

She talks before her reflection.

"You've a pretty odd way of expressing it, you know?"

He answers with a monotone voice, far from feeling any bitterness or the slightest resentment.

"You guys… are my whole family. I was scared I'd lose him and then you."

A tear slides down her face, but in a split second she wipes it away with her hands.

"What I said… I didn't mean it. I really didn't. But you know me, I say more than I should when I'm mad."

The younger's image leaves the frame of the glass, and she turns around to find him.

"Aren't you gonna lecture me, little brother?"

"I'm tired."

…

Tomoe has, up to this day, a small memory mixed into those of the tough days for the family. It was on a rare occasion, while she was in the country and decided to tidy up the house, when she found a secret that wasn't hers.

The trash bin held inside torn pieces of paper, a kind that Tomoe knows all too well. A few characters can still be read, and put together they solve the puzzle.

 _« JPN – B-718 »_

This little realization broadened the picture she painted of her young brother. It was then that she opened her eyes a bit wider. He was trying his best to gather up all senses, to make sacrifices; so she had to learn how to do the same.

.

\- _Friday_ -

.

The cold air and the blank sky seem strange when she glares at them. The feeling is different from any other winter. Morning slips away so slowly.

At the lack of certainty, she ends the day at the office earlier than usual. She decides to take a detour, retrieving a small glimpse of the feeling of being a lost doll many years ago. Today she isn't returning home, but instead walks lightly on her feet across old streets and unfamiliar faces.

When her phone rings, she apologizes to Tadao from the bottom of her heart, as it is the first time she has ever refused to answer one of his calls. To be fair, she turns it off just for today.

The place she's seeking out for once felt like true haven. Far from hiding, her purpose is quite the opposite.

…

To her surprise, the door is open, and it only takes her a deep breath to walk in.

Dust floats through a beam of light slipping between the curtains. This old house remains under white blankets.

For once, she allows herself to walk freely up the stairs.

With a hint of guilt, nervousness and one more of curiosity, her heart pounds as she turns the doorknob.

He's on his knees, pulling boxes from underneath the bed. The shadows on his back are sharpened under the loose fabric of a gray sweater. He stops and straightens his spine. His sharp eyes peek over the shoulder.

Instead of jolting onto his feet, he's slow to unfold his knees and stand up in silence. She wonders if she's kept him waiting.

Their eyes exchange a handful of mixed meanings, some known, some still an enigma.

"Won't you ask why I'm here?"

He shakes his head once.

"Good. Because I'm not sure myself." So suddenly she wants to laugh.

"Do you want to take a walk?" His deep voice softly makes an invitation.

"Why?"

"It'll be easy if one of us needs to leave."

No. She is tired of that.

…

The concrete tiles under their feet seem familiar. When they were together, this was always the path to take when they felt like getting lost inside the curious world Kamiyama has always been.

"Where should I start?" He begins after a few blocks of walking silently.

"You don't have to, but… I am curious." She smiles.

"You're wondering where my Dad is? He's well, he's held up for a long time now. He'll come back to Japan next year after visiting a few relatives."

"Thank goodness. I'm so glad." She whispers with a pure heart.

The way in which she puts her hands together as though making a prayer makes him wonder.

"Did you seriously believe I hated you?"

"You're to humble to hold any hatred, Houtarou-san."

"… At one point, I tried to."

She wants to see him, but he walks behind her.

"I wanted blame everything onto everyone. My dad for not keeping a promise. Tomoe for being so immature. But in the end, all I could picture was myself. I went through everything I had done wrong. I could count with my fingers the number of mistakes and the people it hurt."

His voice glooms until silence takes over. But she cannot let him alone to his thoughts like that. He stops moving when she does. A delicate hand reaches for his. It's this warm feeling that takes him by surprise.

"Don't stay behind."

Of course he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Houtarou-san… "

He holds tighter and a smile draws over.

"Back then, I wanted to tell you everything. But I didn't know how. Now that there's nothing to be afraid of, I'm ready to tell you."

She is ready to keep walking with ears wide open.

…

"My father spent three weeks in a hotel room, two days on the street, and 24 hours in a hospital bed before I did anything. It was only possible to treat him and live over there because Tomoe had contacts everywhere.

But… things were not bad for a long time before that.

I've never told anyone too much about my family, but I want to let you know.

There was a time, when Tomoe and I were young, and someone close to the family passed away; Dad locked himself inside his office, but even through the door, the smell of alcohol was sickening.

It wasn't the first time he drank, but it was the last time my mother knocked on his door.

I was too little to understand what was happening, but Tomoe was already in her most difficult teenage years.

After the divorce, Tomoe and my dad became distant. She used to rant until her face was all red and swollen from crying. Then she would rather spend whole days at some friend's house, and later on in some other country.

From time to time, a bottle would roll over the kitchen counter where he was asleep. Many times I had to come, pat his back to wake him up, and help him get on his feet. Until one day he promised it would be the last time. He kept his word for years.

One vacation a fisherman uncle invited him on a trip across the Pacific Ocean. Then he found out Tomoe was still in Canada. So he decided to look for her and talk.

Everything crashed down too fast from there.

You've met my father, he's never had much to say. I think we're the same in a way, and maybe that's why I never hated him for anything.

But… when I got a call from a foreign number telling me that my father had passed out from alcohol poisoning… I started to understand my sister a bit more.

I didn't want to see him like that. I wanted to convince myself that this wasn't that bad, that he was going to stand back up on his own again.

I also thought of the younger me who'd spent entire nights looking after him. I thought of how stupid he'd been for nothing.

I started to question if the rest of things I had worked for would be worthless as well. If… I was going to lose those too in the end.

That included you. I couldn't bear to fail you too.

It took me a long time to realize what you were trying to do, longer than you'd believe.

At first, when I saw you getting upset with me for the first time, I knew I had messed up everything, because I'd disappointed the only person who believed I was better than just a coward.

It was only when my dad came back to live with us that I cleared my head from all these thoughts, then everything started to make sense.

You were being selfless at the last attempt to help me. I made you my very own reason to stay, and you realized of that before I could. And so, things turned into a fight trying to see who could play out the strongest.

I found out you'd left Japan that year to study abroad. But I was too scared of asking where you were or what your new phone number was. I had a lot to fix before I could ever face you again.

So, I waited.

I screwed up when I got here. It was wrong of me to try and kiss you out of nowhere. I realized that, not because I'd been waiting to come back and find you, meant that you were the same.

You could've been married for all I know, and I still tried to see you. I still wanted to see you. To keep you from leaving this time."

…

Their feet keep a soothing pace, and just like that the air turns one hue darker, changing from the spectrum of dusk to that of a cold, starred infinity. At times the way seems forlorn, foreign. But there's no path in this town that won't take them back to where they started.

When his tale comes to an end, he stops. Their fingers are still intertwined, but now they stand in the middle of a far road where only leafless trees and the sound of the river surrounds them.

His thin lips curve into a smirk.

"This is my story, why are _you_ crying?"

A familiar pressure meets her clashed lashes, washing away the warm tears shedding through. She hasn't cried like this in a long, long time.

To do the same in front of just anyone was never easy, but with him it was safe to break down, because he would always gather every little piece of her and put it back into place. Was that what she always took for granted?

At first it's impossible to focus when tears blur his features, but soon he becomes as clear as water could be. At this very moment, she's positive of his honesty being a precious part of him, perhaps even more than before.

"Eru, you became everything that kept my world spinning… _and I lost you_."

For once, the quietness is eating him alive.

"Don't you have something to say?"

She cups his face within her bare hands, warm as daylight.

If there is something he must know, if it has to be a question he has an answer for, lingering inside of him, then she will spell it carefully.

"Why are you coming back to _me?_ "

With his green eyes, raw and alive, he wills to give everything that he is into those very hands. And she can see through him, all that they were, coming back to this their place.

"… _Won't you take me?"_

Inches apart turn into a miniscule space not even wind can pass through.

And it hurts. A kiss, so avaricious, bears complete years of yearning. A kiss cannot ease the pain. Despite everything, in the end, a kiss is still perfect.

…

They resume on the slow pace of the night, walking back through the same old path while the cold air sweeps around.

Words flow for a long while. From one tale to another he may smile, laugh or stay silent, she may do so or be betrayed by a few self-conscious tears that he's always fast to relief.

Sooner than later, the house takes them in again. The room is dimly lit and not too cold. On their knees they share the coffee table and at some point, words stop flowing.

He glares at her with a foolish smile. Her face feels warmer.

"What is it?"

"We're pitiful."

Her head tilts to the right.

"When I left, I forgot to leave your image here. And you forgot to keep it. So it haunted me for long. It teased me, because I couldn't reach it."

A hand stretches across to sweep the hair off his forehead.

"Forget about that. You and I are here now."

Her blushed smile is as tender as her touch, but her tone soon falls into a different side of seriousness.

"There is something I haven't told you yet, Houtarou-san."

She rushes to find her coat, and when she returns, a little two-piece box is placed on the table.

"You're engaged?" Stunned, he raises both eyebrows in confusion.

She shakes her head immediately.

"My financial counselor gave me this. But he left before I could give it back. Now I've got to wait for him."

"That's the first time I hear of that sort of financial counseling."

Because of that remaining expression over him, she realizes that she's already speaking too far without proper explaining.

"At first, it was my grandfather's wish to arrange a marriage. I disagreed, but he only let go of the idea when I decided to take course into business. That's why I left the crops aside for a while. Yet, Tadao-san, he still…"

His expression softens. Since nobody else knows of this, she wants to know what to do, he can tell.

"You don't know what to say to him, is that it?"

"He's been working in the Estate for years… I don't like to hurt others."

Before her face falls down, he holds her chin with a thumb, bringing her gaze up.

"He'll understand. I mean, if he fell for you, he must know you enough to expect an honest answer."

If her heart has led her to this point, then it surely, as he says, will be truthful to Tadao too.

"I gotta hand it to him, though. Sure, if you bear with me just a little longer…"

She grins, not sure where his lighthearted joke is going.

"What do you mean?"

"Remember the time I showed up in the middle of the night?" She nods. "That's when I found out my Dad had been picked up from a street and taken into detoxification."

Her eyes widen, she still listens closely.

"Before then, I'd been thinking that maybe, once we were both done with college, and I gained enough experience working with your family, you would accept to live with me.

But then, when that night happened, and I woke up, and you were still there… I guess that's when I finally knew-"

His last bit of breath is stolen before he finishes a slow sentence.

Locked inside the best dream brought to life, he holds her tighter each passing second. His hands run through her short hair. His eyes trust blindly she is still here.

For the millionth time, he stumbles upon the same precious mistake, right into the trap where he wants to fall.

…

Scattered kisses flow in and out. A maze builds from the steam of colliding, sweet and delirious breaths. The heat of a fuse, lit by eyes in yearn, warms up the air, the fabric over and underneath. It no longer matters whether winter is over or not.

The moonlight shines through her silken, fair skin, and the color of her hair outshines the feathers of a raven, a black deeper than night itself.

 _« Don't ever let me give you up. »_

Guilt is pitiful and completely meaningless when they can only feel and hold the other. When their hands aren't repressed; when their gazes are dyed by a mutual portrait. When their breaths, heartbeats and skin become one in the most perfect harmony.

…

\- April, _andante._ –

…

She barely spends any time in this house, but because he's come to visit, it suddenly becomes warming. There are warm cups and a piano, and that's enough to reduce their world down to these four walls.

Months and miles keep them apart every time they go back to their respective paths. But tonight, as spring begins to blossom, the breach closes.

Her fingers enclose his carefully, guiding them through every key, caressing every note vibrating through his skin. It's difficult to focus on the lesson when she's there, when the melody is trapping him inside her image, when the light is dim.

"This one is difficult." He confesses.

"You're right. Why don't we listen to it first?"

She tiptoes across the room, finding the right track to play in the background. She comes back to the piano only to find him trying on his own to repeat her instructions.

Her hand is inviting him to stand, to hold a grip and join the course of music.

"I can't dance, you know that."

Shy footprints engrave on the floor.

"Then we don't need to dance."

The notes are swayed by the wind ruffling through the curtains. A gentle breeze that soon becomes a mist, threatens to bring along a rainy, cold night.

But they still turn slowly, naturally like their feet only know one way to go. Her arms still locked over his shoulders, his hands entangled on her waist, their heads perfectly fitting in the curve of the other's neck.

Perhaps their lack of movement does not match the harmony of this notation. Even when the melody stops and the only sound left is that of rain furiously cutting through the air outside this small world of theirs, they remain still.

"I've missed you, Houtarou-san."

She confesses as her hands tremble at the strength they're investing into holding him closer. Because she longs for the feeling of his chest against hers, his back under her fingertips.

He's quiet. He's always so, very reticent when there are thousands of words he could pull out of his chest and offer to her.

Instead, deeply, sincerely and naively, he touches her lips. At first a bare second stolen by a sweet caress, and then a few more.

It is within every whisper, every touch and every glance that they get lost only to find each other once more.

The rain does not stop as April gives way for May to enter through the window.

…

\- May, _one._ -

…

Her eyes fixate on his fingers, entwining slowly around hers. He's so enthralling to gaze at when moonlight shines over his eyes. His lips now come closer, inviting themselves to clash against her forehead.

This side of his no one ever knew of, was her most valuable treasure.

" _Eru. Don't ever let me give you up. I know myself, when something becomes hard I stop trying."_

She remembers a sudden need to reassure his wish through a promise she thought unnecessary.

The warm scent of words caresses his neck.

" _That is not true."_

She whispers.

" _Not true…"_

The world outside could turn into ashes or could turn into ice, and it would still not be capable of breaking him apart from those lips.

.

 _\- Saturday -_

.

It's either too late into the night or too early onto the morning. He seems deeply lost in a peaceful dream she cannot break. So for now she only allows herself to stare, and maybe every now and then let a caress push back his messy hair.

 _« One second, then I'll be gone. »_ He'd promised.

Too blissful to blink, she doesn't want to miss a second of him. She isn't afraid of that promise anymore.

Just when he seems to be swimming through the deepest sleep, his eyes open slightly, peeking over the side.

"You can't sleep?"

"I don't want to lose sight of you." She admits.

"Eru… I never told you why I came back, not exactly, at least."

She comes closer, his chest is warm and welcoming.

"What would the exact reason be, then?"

He whispers into her ear, and it seems to give away a secret only she can hear.

She curls up on his chest and he feels cold droplets slowly sliding down the warm skin of his neck, leaving chilling traces behind. He wraps his arms around her quivering shoulders.

" _I love you."_ Painted rose, her thin lips murmur the confession over his skin.

Although his heart is now at peace, his lips still part in amusement. She kisses them most carefully, letting go of the shyness that had kept them quiet.

 _« I've loved you lots of times over. Each time I saw you, whether you were there or not, I fell for you. A million times before I could let you know. »_

His devoted eyes speak for him, she knows them well.

…

Dawn breaks through the windows of the house. They could lie still, covered under white blankets like everything else in the place. However, she's never been one to stand and do nothing for too long.

Against his natural will to do so, he's pushed through the morning. They dedicate all day to make of this house a home. The dust is swiped off, the curtains are replaced by thinner fabrics, and the dishes are pulled out of the cabinets and polished.

When the sun is beneath the horizon and twilight washes over the streets, the place is, at last, impeccable.

"Won't people wonder where you've been?" He inquires, the bigger side of him hoping her to say no.

"I called the secretary at the office, she was happy to hear I took the day off." She chirps.

He cannot help but to smile with no inhibitions. But then the gesture is erased by a different question.

"… What about your counselor?"

She looks down to the floor, then back to him.

"Tadao-san will be back tomorrow. I'll explain everything then."

"I'll go with you." She seems surprised. "I have to talk to your parents."

She hops onto her feet, wearing a charming smile.

"Let's prepare dinner!"

He falls heavily onto the couch to oppose.

"Give me a break."

.

-Sunday-

.

A rare sunny winter morning pours over Kamiyama's fields. The hustled sound of their footsteps crashing the soil underneath accompanies their trivial conversation as they walk back to the Chitanda's home.

More than nervous, her heart is thumping loudly when he goes by himself into her parent's office.

He, on the other side of the door keeping them apart, kneels down with his head over the back of his hands respectfully bowed to them.

"It is a pleasant surprise to have you back, Oreki-san." Tetsugo expresses. "Do set the time and we will resume on your work here."

"Eru and you have waited long enough. Take care of her as she will in return. We wouldn't want nothing more than her happiness."

Perhaps no one knows this better than him, but he would rush through a lifetime just to go back to her.

"You can be sure I will."

…

Everything seems to go by smoothly, she feels nothing but a freeing joy as they stroll around the gardens only to return to the main gate.

A gray car is parked outside, but what makes her skip a beat is the suited man standing before the two of them.

Tadao remains petrified, the polite gesture on his face disappears as utter unsettlement washes over him.

At the other side, a younger man gives a step forward, extending a hand ahead. Tadao unconsciously shakes it.

"You must be Manninbashi." The spoken for nods quickly. "Thank you, for everything."

Tadao grins in gratitude regardless of the fact that he doesn't have a remote idea of what he's being addressed for.

He returns to her side. "I'll wait outside." He says before leaving them alone to talk.

"Is he, by any chance…?" Tadao is still at a loss.

"Yes, he is Oreki Houtarou-san, the same one who used to work at my father's office five years ago." She says in return.

"I-I see…" He's forgotten how to blink.

She gives a few steps forward, and when Tadao is close enough, she pulls out the velvet-lined box from her coat. He takes it with both hands as a cradle, fixating on it like he's never seen anything like it before.

"Years ago, I said this, and I didn't think I would have to do it again, let alone doing so while directly facing you. I have made a decision since before I met you. I cannot fight it a second time. Houtarou-san… has been the only one since an eternity ago."

Something clenches within the man.

"Forgive me, Manninbashi-san, but I would rather not fool you and me both for any longer. You do _not_ deserve that. Nobody does."

Tadao scoffs out of thin air, still staring hard at the box inside his hands.

"… I never knew things would turn out to be so unfair." His voice sounds different. "When our marriage was to be arranged, it was a matter of business to me and my family. A beautiful woman with a steady heritage. Your denial back then did not cause me any commotion. However, after these many years of getting to know you as a person, I cannot say this time it isn't leaving a wound."

She accepts every word courageously, that is the least she can do for him.

"I am glad to hear your heart is now at ease, but I cannot promise to forget you that easily. As for now, I'll finish my duties with your family and move on as if nothing had happened… Because I really don't believe I could stay and watch, as I fear I might resent you two in the future."

This is the first time she's seen that defeated grin on his face, drained out of all sensibility.

"Thank you for all this time, Manninbashi-san."

She bows at a perfect angle for a long moment, and since Tadao is still a business man before anything, he returns the gesture before walking back to his car.

"Was it disastrous?" He asks when she comes out.

"Perhaps."

…

"Eru."

His voice finds her easily although she was lost in the falling of snowflakes, painting white the long branches of an old cherry tree.

She meets his humble eyes, shining even when the sun has gone down by now.

"Where do you feel like going?" As if reading his exact thoughts, she words out the question he'd been formulating.

He looks up to the frozen tree. It's mesmerizing.

"A warm place."

.

…

\- One year later –

…

.

Although it is probably his second most favorite thing over the face of Earth, Houtarou cannot seem to sleep. Sunlight pours through the windows, brightening the naked skin of her back. He presses his lips on her bare shoulder, softly enough not to awaken her.

The sound of waves as they splatter furiously against the coast crags is spellbinding. A salted breeze flows as a caress over his hair.

At the edge of a far cliff, a weight reclines on him. He smiles. There is a scintillating token of a lifetime-long promise on the hand against his stomach, identical to the one he carries around the same finger.

Eru encircles her arms around his waist, laying her head against his back. It brings her back to life.

"You shouldn't be out here alone." A very sleepy, amethyst gaze begs to take him back.

Before giving into her wish, he's curious to know something.

"Why did you want to come to the sea?"

"It's a fair excuse to wake up next to you." She plants such words on his back.

" _Eru."_

"Yes?" A muffled sound vibrates against his skin.

" _I love you."_

…

.

Notes (just 'cause I gotta get it outta mah system):

The whole point of manipulating all these situations that hurt my beautiful HoutaEru, was to see beyond words, behind their walls. Not just putting them together as a default couple, because we all know, these two are meant for each other, it just takes them (probs) years to come to that point.

But here, here I want to state what I believe their love for each other has the potential to be, so natural and strong. To see that, when it's rainy and dark outside, when there's no one but them inside their own little world, that's where she can love outspokenly every bit of him, and where Houtarou can let her see the tenderness, the care, the passion he too can feel. Because in the end, it's _their_ love, so as long as the other can feel it, nothing else matters.

As of Tadao, why make him up just to torture him (sorry 'bout that)? It was to prove that Eru is strong and independent, and though she was alone, recently hurt and under a ton of pressure, she still took lead on her life without the need to marry a rich man.

Hope you enjoyed this little bribe :) If you did (or did not), feel free to leave a review. It is much appreciated as it helps me improve for future stories!


End file.
